Watching the aria's and feeling so hip and happening that I forget I'm not 23 all over again.
Til the memory floods back to about 5pm this arvo when I was midway through a spray tan and the spraytan-er asked me to look down at my toes.
I found them. After searching for minutes.
When did that belly of mine get so...pregnant looking?? I know it's stretched to accommodate a few growing bubs but it could have done it's duty and bounced back to it's pre preggo glory of, say 1992. And while we are on 1992, why did nobody tell me at the time that that was the best I was ever going to look, so I could milk the year for all it was worth. Why on earth was I not wearing mini skirts and boob tubes when the body was there for the flaunting?
Instead, here I am 17 yrs later getting a spray tan for, lets face it, shading purposes.
I love the female form. I love it in all its roundness, I love where there are imperfections, I love it for all the bits and bobs that may overflow on it.
But, oh to be 23 again and appreciate the time before all that additional beauty kicks in :)
And back to the Aria's. Holy Fuck doesn't this country spit out a hell of a lot of talented little vegemites. Not only do I want to be 23 again but I want to be up there with red hair, blue eyeshadow and a mini skirt belting out a rocking tune like the rest of them. Perhaps I can just turn my attentions towards being a pushy parent (KIDDING!).
Thank God Robbie and Kieth are up there, rocking my boat, so I don't feel like a complete and utter pervert. 40 aint so bad.